


The Watchdog Federation

by seerofbread (zopponde)



Category: Wander Over Yonder
Genre: #SaveWOY Gift Exchange, #saveWOY, Gen, Redemption
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-02
Updated: 2017-05-02
Packaged: 2018-10-27 00:02:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,184
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10797534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zopponde/pseuds/seerofbread
Summary: The Hater Empire dissolves when Lord Hater gets married. Commander Peepers is left to re-organize the Watchdog Army.Gift for http://leelasmall.tumblr.com/





	The Watchdog Federation

**Author's Note:**

> A #SaveWOY exchange gift for Tumblr user leelasmall, beta-read by I_am_Best

 The wedding was almost disappointingly conventional. Not that Peepers didn’t have an eye for these things, and he would be the last person to judge the choices of anyone involved in the wedding, but whenever he imagined Lord Hater getting married, it wasn’t in a church. Maybe that was just an indication of how serious Dominator and Hater were about each other: it didn’t matter where they got married, only that they were together, and the first suggestion Dominator made was sure to be approved by Hater.

Peepers would be lying if he said he wasn’t happy for them, and he did whatever he could to help with the planning. And, of course, whatever he did was impeccable. Venues, color schemes, invitations -- Peepers had a spreadsheet for everything, and he wasn’t afraid to use it whenever a third opinion was needed.

“Dang,” Dominator said, flipping through a collection of place setting pictures. “You’re really good at this. You sure you didn’t miss your calling?”

“Of course not. There’s nowhere for me but the Hater Empire.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” said Hater, not looking up from the place settings. “It’s just not going to be practical for us to be living together but maintaining separate empires, so we’re going to be conquering everything together after the wedding.”

Peepers nodded. “I see, so you want the Watchdog Army prepared for a merger? I’ve been thinking about how to incorporate volcanium-based weapons--”

“Well, we really won’t need two armies. I mean, I basically count for my own,” Hater said, emphatically snapping up a green spark, “and my Dom Bomb has like, a zillion robots that can shoot lava. So we’re really totally set without the Watchdogs.”

“Of course, sir. I’ll whip up a list of our best technicians--”

“Yeah, about that... we’ve got robots for that,” Hater said, to casual to even make eye contact. “Apparently it’s like, way cheaper than having to feed you guys and keep spaces for you to live your own lives or whatever.”

“And if we’re going to be having any kids, it’s not going to be with an army capable of mutiny on my ship,” Dominator added, and before Peepers could get in a word about the intense screening for loyalty and all the preventative pains he had made, Hater was backing her up.

“So really, we think it’s for the best that we just let you go. You can keep the army, do whatever you want with it, it’ll be nice to have some competition.”

* * *

Peepers didn’t break the news to the Watchdog Army until the honeymoon. He tried not to think about it during the planning, even as he knew that there would be consequences of delaying it. It would be painful, and it would keep him from the last clear work he would have.

At the first tactical meeting after the wedding, Peepers tried to highlight the silver linings: fewer anticipated instances of lightning strikes, a reduction in Wander-related setbacks, the end of Captain Tim’s reign of terror. The words felt hollow even as they vibrated through the halls, no matter how the crowd cheered. They must have felt obligated, despite no threats of electrocution for a poor reception.

The first meeting of the Watchdog Cabinet -- essentially the same officers and lieutenants from tactical meetings with Hater, but in the rebranding it seemed best to replace the more impulsively selected members--began drearily. Peepers tried to keep some pep in his voice as he discussed the fates of the various planets. The split between the Dom-n-Hater Empire, the Watchdog Battalion, and the Honeymoon Destructapalooza left them with precious few planets to plunder , and they would need a lot of resources to expand the army enough to compete.

“But the Hater Empire wasn’t built in a day, and I’m sure we’ll be able to make up for lost time,” Peepers tried. He pointed at a Watchdog who had raised his hand. “Yes, Lieutenant Gregory?”

“Are we seriously going to try to keep up with the Dom-n-Hater Empire without a single figurehead with supernatural powers?” Gregory asked. “I mean, I’m not saying it’s impossible, but they have two people with strong elemental powers.”

“And a huge, merciless army,” added Officer Blake. Nods started up around the table.

“Are you saying we should just give up?” Peepers demanded.

“I’m just not sure why we should pretend nothing’s changed, is all,” said Gregory. “Maybe we should lower our ambitions while we get our bearings. There isn’t really a precedent for a galaxy-ruling army with no figurehead. I mean, unless you’re going to totally take over...”

A dozen eyes turned to Commander Peepers expectantly. He knew better than to balk; he put his hands on his hips and said, “I have been leading this army since its inception, and I will continue to lead it even in the absence of its namesake.”

Another hand raised slowly. Peepers gestured and Second Lieutenant Brian asked, “So like, what are we called now, anyway?”

Peepers sighed and set the whiteboard up for a brainstorm.

* * *

 

Since they were really only a re-organization and already had plenty of experience and resources, the Watchdog Federal Army nearly conquered the first three new planets with their eyes closed. Peepers quickly promoted the right men to continue the occupations, and set his own sights on the next frontier: Caltrazix Beta.

“No more walks in the park, men, this is a planet with a trained military,” Peepers said in the briefing. “Not the same prestige as Zyzzx, but they’ve been stockpiling ever since Dominator hit the scene. If we can plunder their stores, we’ll have everything we need to level the next four planets without tapping our reserves.”

Half the forces were assembled. Peepers ordered a preliminary role call, finding which platoons were where, and one response stood out.

Peepers sighed heavily. “Dan, why is your platoon not occupying Blarnaz?”

“Sir,” Lieutenant Dan said nervously, “uh, well, we tried to defend it, but there was some confusion -- we lost a lot of men, I think you’ll see that on our roster--”

“What was confusing about your orders? You were to defend the planet from any threat to the Watchdog regime--”

“But sir, it was Lord Hater,” Dan whispered.

Peepers shook his head. “We chose our new flag for a reason, Dan. You answer to your Watchdog comrades now. You voted for that on the flag board.” It was a heavy-handed imagery, a single glaring eyeball on a red field, but if it made the army happy, Peepers would make the flag whatever it had to be.

“I know, sir,” Dan said, and he finally submitted to a rare sigh. “It was the infantry. Old habits die hard, and the bots took advantage of every hesitation. We’re lucky we got so many men out, as you’ll see from the report.”

Peepers groaned into his hand. “Very well. I’d like a full tactical report to the best of your memory. If you have any video or other documents, I want them on my desk. We need to make sure this doesn’t happen again. Talk to Gregory and Spencer about getting your platoon back up to size.”

“Sir,” said Dan. “I don’t mean to speak for you, sir, but what are we going to do about Blarnaz?”

“We’ll recapture it once we have Caltrazix. Hater will lose interest in a week, and the place will be even easier to conquer after changing hands so much. As long as this doesn’t become a trend, nobody else will even realize that we lost it.”

* * *

It became a trend. Blarnaz, then Descador, then Caltrazix Beta--no love lost, Peepers thought, since they’d already cleared out their stocks. It wasn’t even particularly prestigious, and, if Hater’s expansion weren’t so indiscriminate, Peepers would suspect him of starting a rivalry.

Hater was a fool not to press his advantage more. Peepers knew Hater’s weaknesses better than anyone, but the best tactics went to waste as soon as Hater landed in front of the platoons. It only took a couple hesitating Watchdogs to give an opening, and Dominator’s bots made quick work of infantry.

But then, the Watchdog Federation was hardly a prestigious rival. It was almost too easy for even the clumsiest electric skeleton man, and with Dominator on his side, and suddenly so much more interested in competing than destroying...

The first forays into seizing conquered planets were highly successful. Descador was a great example of that, where two platoons annihilated three battalions of Fist Fighters with a squad of Doom Dragon cavalry. The victory on Zeda-8 against the Evil Sandwich was satisfying as well, though it didn’t come with such a feeling that battles were, if anything, even easier without relying on Hater.

But fighting against Hater directly wasn’t working. Dominator saw the advantage and wouldn’t attack them alone, so if any military advantage were to be had against the Dom-n-Hater Empire then it would have to be on their own terms, instigated with careful timing to prevent reinforcements from arriving -- or to keep anyone with the slightest chance of balking out of whatever fray Hater might jump into.

“In short, we will need a superior strategy, and for that we need intelligence,” Peepers said at the board meeting. “We can’t know the best time to attack if we don’t know their plans. We’re looking for a time when Dominator and Hater will be divided to conquer.”

It took a month to get enough data to know that there would be no such time. They couldn’t bear to be apart. “A regular pair of lovebirds, aren’t they?” Peepers said on hearing the report. “Very well, then. If this intel about an upcoming assault on Mirkonia is any good, we’ll start by preparing an ambush there. We’ve already started working on the task force, and the existing troops there can act as a diversion. They can keep Hater occupied while I lead the pincer attack to the rear. The element of surprise should give us the upper hand, and if we can incapacitate Hater then the bots will stop everything to get him out of there. Any questions?”

The universal hesitation of the cabinet was tangible in the air. Finally, Gregory raised his hand. “Sir, with all due respect, what do you mean by incapacitate?”

“Are you questioning the need to defeat the enemy, soldier?” Peepers snapped.

“No, sir, I just--well, I mean to be honest, you used to be scared to tell him that his plans sucked,” said Gregory. “Like, do you want us to... I mean, if we have to defend ourselves...”

“Of course you’ll have to defend yourself! You will be in battle. You will be fighting!” Peepers brought his hands back down to cover his face and sighed. “Gregory, you’re usually brighter than this. What is so hard about this concept?”

Gregory shrugged. “I mean, I guess I could shoot to kill, but I figure if there’s anyone you wouldn’t want us to...”

“Why wouldn’t you shoot--” The words hit Peepers suddenly. He had made several attempts, in the past couple months, to re-establish contact with Hater, over several different mediums. He’d been careful to word them correctly, never making threats, always emphasizing that no ceasefire need be established. But in nearly a dozen messages, it could not be coincidental that he got no response.

Hater had inhibited their progress even in the Hater Empire that it almost seemed to Peepers a natural progression to use military tactics. He thought he had a grip on the situation, seeing his former boss as a friendly competitor, a sparring partner, an accidental rival, but, by now, Hater must see the Watchdog Federation as a threat, or at least a hindrance. He certainly would think of Peepers as an enemy to be eliminated, and it would be dangerously foolhardy to engage  in Hater with the least hesitation to end him if given the slightest indication that Hater would do the same. Perhaps even before that.

Peepers nodded solemnly. “Yes, Gregory. I explicitly authorize lethal force for this mission to defend the sovereignty of the Watchdog Federation.”

The planning began then, and Peepers personally oversaw the distribution of weapons, the arrangement of troops. He watched from Mirkonia’s moon as a Dom-n-Hater flagship approached, and he gave the order for their stealth ship to advance on the target.

* * *

Peepers awoke in the med bay on the Skullship, with Dan watching at his side. He didn’t need to ask what happened. There were plenty of other details to ask about: the extraction from hater’s ship, what course was set, how many troops had been lost in the diversion. But he waited until he could articulate the more specific questions. It would be too painful to hear the fight itself from anyone else’s point of view.

“Well, sir, we’re headed for Zlandar now,” Dan said. “Gregory thought it would be the best place to facilitate your recovery, sir. You were out for almost a day”

“The whole Skullship doesn’t need to go for my recovery,” Peepers snapped. “Get me on a shuttle.”

Dan was shaking his head. “Sir, there’s nothing to be done. We’ll do all we can to maintain our foothold, but if you can’t be there for morale, I can’t imagine we’ll be able to stage an offense after a defeat like that, sir. Not with the casualties what they are.”

Peepers wished he could disagree. He wished he could stand up then and there, ripping his IV out as he marched through the ship barking orders. But his leg was in a cast, and there was no use in such a show if it would complicate his injuries. There was nobody else to lead the Watchdog army. Peepers thought he had selected the best commanders in the bunch, but if they couldn’t lead in his stead...

That said it may yet have been the best choice. Dan’s mention of casualties reminded Peepers that he didn’t know the full extent of the damage, and the Watchdog Army was never much good without a morale boost. Hater had motivated them well enough, but he ruled heavily with fear -- as any good galactic overlord should -- and any effort to push the troops towards such a fearsome foe would be disastrous. Mutiny might be the best-case scenario.

Dan fidgeted. “Do you have any orders, sir?”

Peepers shook his head. “Go to the bridge and tell them to hold course.”

He needed to be alone to think.

* * *

“Gentlemen,” Peepers said gravely, sitting at the head of the conference table. “A serious assessment needs to be made. I don’t know how this meeting will end, but we have to decide our place in the galaxy.”

And that was it. He admitted to the problem, but, if Peepers needed other Watchdogs to solve it for him, then he might as well give up now. The possibility of anyone in the Cabinet solving the myriad problems of the Watchdog Confederation was so negligible that Peepers had nearly written the entire agenda for sorting out the affairs of a dead empire. He might not have kept the door open at all if it weren’t for a stubborn sense of pride.

The answering silence told him that the other Watchdogs realized all this. The weight of it hung in the air before Lyle, the quietest at the board meetings, said, “Should we tell him?”

“Tell me what?” Peepers asked. It was too much to hope that some competent plan had been formed in the weeks of Peepers’ full recovery, and he was frankly too tired to even contemplate it.

Eyes turned to Dan, who looked even more nervous than usual. “Sir,” he said, “there weren’t any orders, sir, and even Spencer couldn’t get the troops motivated for battle, sir. The troops started getting--antsy, sir, there’s no better word for it.”

“With all that free time, they got into hobbies, and some of them were quite creative,” said Gregory. “It was Dan’s idea to organize them.”

“Spencer figured out the work distribution.”

“Lyle did half of it, not sure where we’d be without him,” Spencer said. “We wouldn’t have had much to work with if Brian hadn’t ransacked half a planet, and it wouldn’t have sold without Blake.”

“Oh please, it’s the least I could do,” said Blake.

Peepers squinted, suspicious. “What exactly have you all been selling?”

“Nothing with the Watchdog name on it, sir,” Gregory said quickly, “not without your approval. But the initial designs were a hit. We sold a lot of T-shirts and a lot of posters.”

“Saved some for you, if you want them,” Spencer chimed in. “They’re a little--well, we were sure you wouldn’t have liked them before that wedding, but it seems like now you might have a bit more appreciation for Hater hate.”

That was too much for Peepers to decide on at the moment. He leaned forward on the desk. “How much did you say was earned through this?”

Blake reported it: not enough to repair the entire Skullship, but a good start on it -- or on something else. Gregory was quick to add, “And that was without you, sir. Analysis suggests that a more experienced leader could expand a small trial into a viable source of revenue. I understand that it would be a drastic re-imagining of the Watchdog Confederation, but I think it’s worth putting on the table, sir, if you were considering that anyway.”

And now the conversation stopped. All eyes were turned to Peepers, listening. The members of the cabinet had, evidently, all played roles in starting some new enterprise, with no prompting at all. They had become artists and businessmen, and now that Peepers was there, they were different people. He hesitated to think of soldiers as a reduced version of anything, of anyone, but for the moment, his cabinet was nothing but a group of soldiers awaiting orders.

These men would follow Peepers into war, again and again, if he only said the word. And it had always been his dream, his one ambition in life, to conquer planets with an army at his command.

But it wouldn’t be enough. An alternative source of income wouldn’t keep them afloat in an interplanetary campaign. And these soldiers -- these men with their own talents and ambitions, who chose to join an army, looked up to their commander and trusted  in him to continue giving them direction, even after such a failure as Mirkonia. How would he repay that trust? How could he send them to die for a childhood dream that he had, in some capacity, already lived?

It wasn’t sustainable. It wasn’t worthwhile. Peepers looked at the room full of soldiers awaiting orders and, for the first time, without looking for a tactical advantage, wondered what they wanted to do.

Peepers knew what his men wanted: direction. They would follow him anywhere, and it was his responsibility to choose the best one for them. All eyes were on him.

“Well, I’d better see these designs, if we’re going to keep making them,” Peepers said.

**Author's Note:**

> TBH I wasn't sure what I was going to do with the recipient's favorite pairs. I thought I'd go a more character-driven route, and in the process.... used one of those ships anyway. Hopefully I did them justice.
> 
> I'll have to double-check with the exchange rules, but I think this would be a fun concept to expand on more.


End file.
